“Yes. Much in life depends on our personal choices, doesn’t it? In addition to returning to the community, the guys on the force, and my friends, I’ll be returning to, to myself. That’s the person nobody can run from—one’s self.”
“We’re proud of you, Kitt.” Janell gave me another hug. “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest a while. You’ve been through a lot today.”
“Right. I need some minutes to myself, but first I have to make a call. Don’t run off. Stay right here. I want you to hear it, too.
I called Chief Gilmore and claimed my job, my place on the police force. Next, I called my partner and told Hank my decision. Then I left the phone and headed upstairs, knowing that for now I had no place to go but forward.
Once in the shower, I let the water sluice over my body, carrying away the grime from my body as well as the grime in my mind. I felt humbled by my decisions, yet stronger for having made them. After I toweled off and eased into a robe, I slipped Dad’s medallion around my neck. I felt as if I’d been on a long journey and I welcomed the cool bed as I lay down to rest for a while.
* * *
Janell and Rex were busy readying the patio for the night’s business when I returned downstairs, and I went to Hella’s apartment. I had made decisions that would make my return to Iowa less painful, but the question and the horror of Abra Barrie’s death still hung over everyone at The Poinsettia.
When I knocked on Hella’s door, she answered immediately. I told her of my imminent return home. “I’ll be leaving as soon as I can pack and get my car checked over to be sure it’s ready for the long drive.”
“My best wishes to you, Kitt. It’s been nice having you here and we’ll miss you when you leave.”
“I wish we could help solve the Abra Barrie murder before I go, Hella.”
“A huge wish.” Hella shrugged. “We have tried. We have failed. But it’s not our responsibility. Leave it to the police. That’s the best thing to do.”
“We do that, and her murder becomes a cold case. The paper work will be dropped into a folder, filed away, and forgotten.”
“Maybe that’s where it belongs.”
“I think we can do more. Everyone deserves answers. And Hella, I think you can help us find them if you really want to.”
“I’ve done all I can.”
“You told me that in Des Moines you lived in a castle, a haunted castle. Did you ever see any of the ghosts?”
Hella shrugged. “Other people claimed to have seen him, not I.”
“Him?”
“Yes. In the 1920s, Senator Leslie Francis and his family lived at Balmoral Castle. His young son, Merwyn died of bone marrow disease. The senator insisted for years that Merwyn’s ghost still lived in the home.”
“But you, a psychic, never saw him?”
“I’ve never been into ghost hunting, Kitt. Sometimes the best thing a psychic can do is to keep her silence”
How could she be so disinterested in helping us! Anger heated my face, but I kept my voice calm. “Will you try one more time to see Abra Barrie’s killer?” I thought she was going to go inside and close the door on me so I blurted my plan. “If I bring you a possession from each person living and working at The Poinsettia, will you hold those things in your hand and try one more time to see and feel what those items might have to tell you?”
“My readings aren’t an exact science. I’ve tried to explain that to you, but you refuse to listen.”
“I understand your feelings, Hella, and now I hope you’ll humor me one more time before I leave here. Somewhere there’s an answer to our question. Will you try…one more time…to find it?”
Hella sighed. “Under certain conditions, I will try again.”
“Fair enough. What are your conditions?”
“The first and main condition is that you never bring that work glove to me again.”
I wanted to blurt one word—why. But I squelched the question. Hella had said the gloves held a dark aura. She had used the word evil. So an evil person had owned the glove—a person evil enough to murder? We had thought the gloves belonged to Ace because I’d lifted one of them from his boat, but now I knew they belonged to Rex. That changed everything. Could Rex be the guilty one? Is that why the police had called him back for questioning so many times? I didn’t mention Rex owning the glove. Maybe Hella already knew that. Rex was almost like a son to her. She catered to him. Maybe, like me, she couldn’t bear the thought of Rex having anything to do with Abra Barrie’s murder.
“It’s a deal, Hella. We’ll forget the glove for now. I’ll find some much-used possession from everyone connected with The Poinsettia and bring those things to you.”
“All right.”
Hella’s agreement came wrapped in reluctance and I reassured her, before she could change her mind.
“I’ll leave right now and try to have possessions ready for you tonight, if possible.”
“No gloves. Remember I say no gloves. Remember I promise you nothing from this endeavor.”
“Agreed. One more thing. Hella?”
She gave another deep sigh. “And what is that?”
“I’d like to be present when you hold the items I bring to you. I want to hear what you have to say about each item. Is that possible?”
“Yes. That’s possible. Your presence will not interfere with what my mind’s eye tells me.”
“I’ll not try to interfere. Perhaps we can meet tonight while the combo is playing, while the others are busy keeping the customers happy.”
“That is a good plan. You may come here to my apartment once you have gathered the individual possessions you feel are necessary.”
I left Hella feeling that my plan represented my last opportunity to help in finding Abra Barrie’s killer.
Some of the items I needed were easy to find. I went to the kitchen first and pulled a plastic grocery bag from the supply Janell kept on hand.
“What’s up, Kitt? Thought you were still resting.”
“I feel rested enough—at least for now. Janell?”
“Yes?”
“I’m really disappointed that our investigation concerning Abra Barrie has turned up so little information and evidence. I’ve been talking to Hella just now and I asked her to do some psychic detecting.”
“You really believe in that sort of thing?”
“Yes. There may be a lot of fake psychics in the world, maybe especially in Key West, but I think Hella has a special ability to see what others cannot see.” I explained my plan to Janell.
“Okay, Kitt. I’ll help you gather the things you want to take to Hella. How about my green caftan? How about Rex’s chef’s apron?” Janell stepped into the laundry room and lifted the garments from the laundry basket near the washing machine. And you can take one of Mama G’s dish towels—one she frequently uses to cover her bowls of sandwich fillings.”
“Great. And I have the book on Fort Jefferson that Teach used to carry in his pocket. So we still need something personal belonging to Ace and Phud. I’ll look around the bandstand and inside the tool shed out back.”
“Ace keeps extra drum sticks on the bandstand.”
“True, but those are the ones Hella uses. I need something that belongs only to Ace and he seldom lets his black drumsticks out of his sight.”
We walked to the bandstand to take a look. Music folders. Drums. Teach’s bass fiddle.
“How about the cushion from Ace’s chair?” Janell asked.
“No. Won’t do. Hella sits on it, too. Guess I’ll have to get something of Ace’s later. Don’t know how long it takes Hella to ‘see’ into the depth of each article. Maybe I have enough things for her to work with tonight.”
After I left Janell, I walked to the tool shed at the back of the garden and looked at the array of items it held. Which ones belonged to Rex? Which ones did Phud have personal claim to? Or maybe they shared them. I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I’d have to wait until tomorrow morning and pay special attention
to the tools the men used.
For now, I carried the collection I’d gathered in the grocery bag to my room. I’d take them to Hella later tonight. I stared at the bag after I tossed it onto my bed. Had a murderer held something in that bag? The question creeped me out.
Chapter 24
Later that night after I’d helped Rex light the patio torches, I stood for a few moments entranced. Such moments as these would soon be only memories—scenes from my past.
The lighter fluid emitted a pungent odor and heat from the flames warmed my cheek. I watched the torches point slim fingers of flame to the sky before the trade wind caught them, broadened them, and sent them undulating like golden dancers shimmying this way and that into the night. I stood there caught up in this picture postcard scene and dreaming, knowing I’d remember The Poinsettia long after I returned to the snow and ice of the Iowa winter.
I forced myself to put all thoughts of Rex and the stained glove from my mind. Nor did I dwell on the fact that I would be leaving Janell alone with him in Key West. There had been no indications that Rex might harm her or that he might have thought of harming her. Nor did I believe Rex had harmed Abra Barrie. No. No such thoughts at all.
I refused to let such ideas take root in my mind. Rex was my brother-in-law, a loved and highly respected member of our small family. Maybe Hella had been wrong about the glove reeking of evil vibes. She was first to admit that she was sometimes mistaken about the things her mind’s eye saw. Or maybe she hadn’t been mistaken. Maybe other men had also worn that glove in the past. Maybe someone had grabbed it and slipped it on in a time of need.
I helped Janell arrange sandwiches at the snack bar until I heard Mama Gomez count 1and-a, 2and-a, 3and-a, 4 and give the signal to start the music. When I heard the opening strains of “Harbor Lights,” I knew Hella was sitting at Ace’s trap set. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ace striding across the dance floor in my direction. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for whatever might come next. No way was I going to make this encounter simple for him. No way would I make his first words to me any easier for him. Then feeling ashamed of myself and my negative attitude, I turned, looked directly at him and met his gaze.
“K-Kitt, will you please let me apologize again?”
“No more apologies necessary, Ace. I shouldn’t have jumped to such crazy and uncalled for conclusions.”
“I’m really sorry our lighthouse trip turned into such a fiasco and caused us both so much anxiety and pain.”
“But it’s all behind us now. Let’s leave it there, okay?”
“Deal.”
“You could have been killed jumping into Phud’s car the way you did.”
“And I hate to imagine what might have happened to you if you’d fallen down those steps, thinking I meant to hurt you.”
I swallowed before I spoke. “Let’s call it one total misunderstanding. Perhaps a decade of misunderstandings.” I smiled.
Ace smiled back. “When I was a child, I spoke as a child. Now I’m a man, I’ve put childish things behind me.” Ace’s smile quirked into a grin. “That’s not an exact translation, but I remember hearing words something like those from a Bible-belt minister back in Iowa. Anyway, I mean the words sincerely.”
“Thank you, Ace. And I accept them as you intended.”
“How about a dance before the tune ends? We’re still friends, aren’t we?”
“Of course.” I took a step toward him. I was about to tell him that I’d be leaving Key West soon, but he surprised me by mentioning it first. Did everyone at The Poinsettia know? I hoped everyone didn’t know the why of my visit. I wasn’t ready to share those intimate details just yet.
“You’re leaving soon, right?” Ace asked when I hesitated in replying.
“Right.” I wondered if he even guessed at the problems I’d face back in Iowa. This was no time to think about that. I let him ease me onto the dance floor. “Yes. I’ll be packing my suitcase soon with layers of mixed emotions. I love Key West and The Poinsettia. I hate to leave, but vacation’s over. I can’t stay any longer.” I offered no further explanations. Ace didn’t pry. But why should he? People took vacations. Vacations usually came to an end sooner or later. Nothing about my time here really required any explanation.
We glided across the floor to a far corner of the patio. Eyes closed, Ace had buried his face in my hair and I could feel his warm breath against my neck. From the side of my eye, I saw Janell give me a thumbs up and a huge grin.
“Kitt,” Ace murmured. “Someday I’d like to visit you in Iowa. Think that might be a possibility?”
“Maybe we could arrange that. I’ll have to think about it.” I hoped he couldn’t feel my heart thudding. “It’s a long ways to Iowa. And there’s your boat. Who’d take care of it and your shrimp business?”
Ace ignored by question. “You got a boyfriend back home, Kitt? I mean, I can’t imagine that you don’t have several guys there awaiting your return. Wouldn’t surprise me if one of them isn’t hurrying you home right now. Guess it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that you’re engaged.”
“No boyfriends. No engagement.” I didn’t elaborate, didn’t want to spoil the evening by thinking about Shelby Cox. When Ace nestled me more closely into his arms, I welcomed his nearness and enjoyed dancing in silence until the music stopped and Mama Gomez shouted.
“Back on the bandstand, Ace. You’re on. Move it. Pronto.”
At the sound of her voice, Ace jerked his head up in surprise so quickly he banged his forehead against my nose. My nose spurted blood. I tilted my head back, but blood dripped on my lip, my chin and then onto my shirt. Ace yanked a bandana from the pocket and offered it to me. I took it from him, but I didn’t try to stop the flow of blood. He grabbed his bandana back and tried to wipe my face clean.
“Kitt! I’m sorry. Stand right there. Let me go to the faucet and dampen this thing with a little warm water.”
I grabbed the bandana again. “Thanks, Ace, but I’ve had nosebleeds before. I’ll take care of it in the house. No point in letting the patrons see blood.”
“Okay. Go. But I am sorry.”
“Enough of apologizing. Mama G will have your head on a platter if you don’t get back to the bandstand.”
“That woman doesn’t scare me, Kitt. She’s more bark than bite.”
“But go. I’m okay. I’m okay.” I held his bandana to my nose. “Get back on the bandstand before your fearless leader has a stroke.” I pushed him toward his trap set. “Go. Go. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
Ace rejoined the combo without a glance at Mama G’s scowling face, and they began their next number. I hurried across the patio toward the house, still tilting my chin to try to stop the flow of blood. Janell grabbed a paper towel and held it under my nose until it stopped bleeding.
“Your shirt’s a mess, Kitt.” She threw the paper towel into a trash basket. “Better go douse those stains in cold water. They should come right out. Why didn’t you finish blotting the mess on Ace’s bandana?”
“I’m not worried about blood stains at this point.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Now I have a personal item from Ace to show to Hella.”
“What if he asks for it back? Don’t think I’ve ever seen him without a bandana hanging from his hip pocket.”
“If he asks, I’ll tell him I’ll toss the bandana into the laundry and return it to him later. Surely he has more than one.”
“Good. And fast thinking on your part.”
I hurried on inside the house, stopping at the refrig for an ice cube to press on my upper lip. I held it in place until the bleeding had totally subsided before I hurried to my room and added Ace’s bandana to the grocery bag of items I’d managed to collect for Hella.
Going to the closet, I pulled out a fresh shirt and donned it before hurrying into the bathroom and running a basin of cold water. I submerged my blood-stained tee, squishing it around and squeezing it until it was thoroughly soaked. Although fresh, the blo
od stains didn’t give way to the water quickly. I had to add stain a remover, rub each spot with hand soap, and scrub, scrub, scrub.
I’d been making so much noise with the shirt and the running water that even the combo music sounded sporadic. After I eased the shirt onto a plastic hanger and hung it over the tub to drip dry, I opened the bathroom door. I been so preoccupied that I hadn’t heard anyone come upstairs and I jumped, startled when I saw Rex waiting for me in the hallway. He had a strange gleam in his eyes and he held a hammer in his right hand.
“Rex?” I backed off, bumping into the wash basin as he stepped forward blocking the doorway. For a few seconds he stood looking at me with that weird glint in his eyes. I wanted to run, but he stood between me and the door, and I couldn’t squeeze past him to reach the hallway, and the stairs.
“Kitt, I want to tell you something.” His voice came out a raspy whisper, and his demeanor made me back farther into the bathroom instead of approaching him and the door. Three steps back and now there was no more space. I was trapped against the shower stall. Shades of the Bates Hotel! All I could think of was Psycho, that memorable Hitchcock movie, the stained glove Rex claimed as his own, and the hammer in his hand. And mixed with all that, I recalled TV programs in which the killer murdered his victim in a bathroom and flushed her blood down the shower drain until there was nothing left for the police to find.
Rex’s next words were real shockers.
“I want this to be a surprise for Janell.”
My death? Some great surprise! “What are you talking about, Rex? Have you lost your mind?”
I forced myself to stand taller and straighter until I was only a bit shorter than Rex, but my hands were slick with cold sweat. Fear held me mute.
Chapter 25
Rex’s next words brought me to a confused sort of attention.
“Kitt, I can’t thank you enough for finding the painting, bringing it to me.”
The painting? I began to relax, to throw off my crazy fears. Maybe Rex didn’t intend to murder me after all. I forced a smile and tried to forget his gloves and the hammer in his hand.
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